Chapter Four
Carmen
My sister was right.
I didn’t really need to do much of the actual cleaning myself anymore.
That was kind of the point in taking the financial (and personal) risk of hiring more women.
Lord knew that there was plenty of work for me to do on the back business end, including taking on new clients, but I found myself driving to one of my regular houses to help the other cleaner.
Even though she’d been cleaning houses for longer than I had.
I just needed something to do.
Needed somewhere to put my extra anxious energy.
“You still considering doing office cleaning at night?” Becca asked as she slid the racks back in the oven.
“Yeah, it’s on my list. The money is good, but I would need to take on a few more cleaners to really get that going. And not a lot of people want to work overnight.”
“Well, when it comes to it, I wouldn’t mind throwing my name in that cap.
” She pulled off her mask and wiped sweat from her face.
“This nugget is going to be here soon,” she said, pressing a hand to her round stomach.
“And it would make more sense for me to work at night when my mom and sister are home to help with the baby, so I can be home all day with my baby and watch my sister’s kid to save her money too. ”
“You’ll be the first on my list then, when I sort it all out. How about I take the bathrooms, so you don’t have to breathe in the chemicals?” I suggested, handing her the vacuum I’d just dragged in.
Honestly, Becca was far enough along that she probably shouldn’t have been doing the back-breaking work of house cleaning.
But when her loser ex heard she was pregnant, the asshole hopped on a plane to backpack around the world and ‘find himself.’ Which was a synonym for ‘I don’t want to pay child support’ I hadn’t heard before.
So Becca had a baby on the way while living at home with her mom, her sister, and her sister’s son. Everyone was struggling. And babies weren’t cheap. She had to work. And her condition allowed me to distract myself while also making her job easier.
I didn’t expect, when I took a flag off a random poster asking for a reliable house cleaner, that it would be more than a part-time gig for me. My sister and I had just been living on ramen and leftovers from my serving job at the time, and I just wanted a little more breathing room with bills.
But I ended up being good enough at it that my client started recommending me to her friends. Then suddenly, I was making twice what I was making at my serving job.
I chugged along that way, just a solo operation, for a few years. Until more work kept coming in and I ran out of hours in my week. Only then did I bring a girl from the neighborhood in. Then another. And another.
Suddenly, I owned a business. And all the headaches that came with that.
My sister was right. The more I expanded, the less of the actual cleaning I had to do myself—even if I kind of preferred that to all the taxes, bookkeeping, healthcare forms, and all the other crap having employees came with.
It wasn’t even like I was rolling in it, either, evidenced by where we were still living. I always thought that people who had employees must be making bank. I was probably making the exact same I’d been making when I’d been doing all the cleaning myself.
That said, another handful of clients—especially if I could snag some office buildings—could finally tip things slightly more in my favor.
“How’s Sofia’s auditions going?” Becca asked as we made our way to our cars once the house was sparkling.
“She nabbed a pretty big commercial, which is great.” Especially since it was her first gig in months that nabbed her more than a few hundred bucks.
“Residuals, right?”
“Exactly. She lucked out with this one. She’s still trying her best to nab a play or role in a show or movie, but with this and her UGC work…”
“UGC?”
“User Generated Content. Basically, brands pay her to make short-form videos endorsing their products for them to use. Great job for someone with some acting chops. And surprisingly good money.” Especially when she got to be at home doing it.
She had a little corner set up in her bedroom where she could change the background for the videos.
All she’d needed to get started was a decent camera, lighting, and a few sample videos.
But for how hard she worked through college and since then with trying to land gigs, I really hoped her career took off eventually. We’d both struggled a lot with that hope in mind.
“Tell her to break a leg for her next audition for me,” Becca said, letting out a grunt as she dropped down into her driver’s seat. “I’ll see you later this week.”
“You will,” I agreed, waving to her.
I did one more job before I dragged myself to the gym, using my sister’s code to get in, and no one seemed to care.
Because hours of scrubbing until my fingertips ached still hadn’t managed to help me decide what my next move was about this Rune situation. Each time the night before popped into my head, it was like I was there again. I started to sweat, my hands shook, my insides trembled, my stomach sloshed.
I hoped that maybe hopping on the treadmill and cranking up the speed might help me outrun it. But over an hour and a half of running and stair climbing later, I dragged myself into the showers and felt the immediate stomach-dropping sensation at the flash of a memory from the night before.
Distracting myself was clearly not going to work.
I needed to start planning again.
Though, planning to do what, exactly?
Get another gun and shoot him?
Now that I’d given that a try, I wasn’t sure I could ever do it again.
It hadn’t been like my mind had tricked me into thinking. It hadn’t been cool or calm or collected. I hadn’t felt righteous and certain.
I’d just been terrified.
And this boogeyman I’d created in my mind suddenly had a face, a voice, a dimpled smile.
It was easy, in my fantasies, to walk in and shoot some made-up vision I had of this guy. It was a whole other thing to interact with him, to see him moving, breathing, alive.
I wasn’t sure how anyone could do it.
How could you look someone in the eye, see their soul, and then snuff it out? How could you do that?
I mean, that was a question I could ask him, I suppose.
But knowing someone else had done the unthinkable didn’t make it easier for me to do it.
So, really, if I couldn’t shoot him, what could I do?
Leave? Take my sister away from all the acting opportunities in the city and, lately, even in Jersey as well?
That wasn’t fair.
Leave her and run away by myself?
I wasn’t sure I’d ever been away from my sister for more than a few days. I couldn’t even fathom ditching her. Especially if there was a chance this guy could find where I used to live.
What then?
Go back? Beg for mercy?
My spit tasted like battery acid just thinking of uttering those words.
What then?
That was what was still on my mind after changing into spare clothes I kept in my car (in case of chemical or water work mistakes), and drove back home.
“What’s up, Chip?” I asked as my neighbor rode over on his riding mower—big noise-canceling headphones sitting atop a massive-brimmed red and white baseball cap.
It didn’t escape my notice that the drink holder attachment we’d bought him for his birthday was now thoroughly attached, and sporting a sweating beer.
“Should you be drinking and driving?” I teased as he moved one of his earphones to the side.
He huffed at that, but his lips twitched a little.
“Got a big spot out back with no grass.”
Yes, because he’d been seemingly strategically placing the mower a few inches over every few days until a big rectangle of grass had died off.
“I saw that.”
“Might be a good spot for a garden.”
So, that was what he was up to.
“It definitely gets good sun there.”
“House down the block, they’re selling tomato, cuke, and zuke starter plants. Cheap too.”
“Are they?” I asked. “Well, maybe I should walk down there and snatch a few up. There’s nothing like a tomato right out of the garden.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Chip said in that surly voice of his. “So, you’d plant ‘em?”
“Sure. I think a little community garden would be nice.”
“I’ll drive on down there and get them before they sell out then.”
With that, he did the widest U-turn known to mankind and drove down the street, beer and all, to get garden plants.
It was a little pick-me-up I desperately needed.
I was excited to tell Sofia that we were definitely getting Chip to warm up to us as I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“Sof, you’re never gonna believe—”
Then nearly fainted dead right on the spot.
My stomach dropped out. My heart surged up. All my organs seemed to just displace themselves all at once.
Because what?
What the hell was I seeing?
No. Not what. Who?
Because seated right there on the couch with a content Hamster sitting at one side, her block head on his thigh as he pet her belly, was Rune.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
This could not be happening.
He could not be in my house. Petting my dog. Looking like he’d been there for a while, all lounged back and comfortable.
“No.” The sound gulped out of me. The only way I knew it was loud enough for him to hear was the way his chin tilted ever so slightly.
“Never going to believe what?” Sofia asked, coming out from the kitchen in the back of the house with a cup of coffee she passed to the stranger on our couch. “Here you go.”
How had this gone so wrong so quickly?
Why had my ultra-safety-conscious sister let someone she didn’t know inside?
I needed to get her out of the house.
This was my problem, not hers. If someone was going to be horribly tortured and killed, it needed to be me, not her.
“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
Worse. It was so much worse. I was seeing the man I’d almost killed. In my living room. With my sweet little sister bringing him hot beverages. And my so-called protection dog rolling onto her back and begging for more belly rubs.