2. Exodus “Yin” Tan
EXODUS “YIN” TAN
The fight ended badly and for the millionth time, I found myself awake and covered in sweat.
My soul filled with pain and shame and guilt. At the end of it all, I was still standing.
I didn’t try falling back to sleep. I knew from experience that wouldn’t happen no matter how hard I tried. Instead, I climbed out of bed, dressed then unplugged my phone from the charger to make a call.
“If this isn’t an incredibly good-looking man who’s hung like a horse, I’m hanging up.” Shayna “Bambam” Carver grunted.
“Well, both of those things are true.” I grinned.
“Oh, come on, Yin.” She sighed. “Do you know what time it is? I just went to sleep.”
“I could’ve asked Sam, but?—”
“You’re trying to outrun the ghosts.” She grunted like someone having a hard time getting up. “What you need?”
“Address for an Alisha Quinn.”
Seconds later.
“High school teacher or an accountant from Barrie?” Bambam wanted to know.
She was scary good—I’d learned years ago not to question her ways on doing things or the speed of it.
“High school teacher.”
Letting myself out the front door, I waited absentmindedly until it chimed, telling me it was locked then jogged down the steps. Tossing myself into the front seat of my car, I tarried a little.
I turned the ignition on for her to have access to my GPS. Then watched as she remotely access the system to put the location in then shifted to put on my seatbelt.
“Want me to stay online in case you need some backup?” Bambam asked around a yawn.
“Why do you automatically think this is trouble?” I wanted to know. “I could be going for a booty call.”
“Ha!” Bambam chortled. “Let me ask you this. Are you going for a booty call?”
“Of course not.”
“See! So, do you want me to stay online for some back up? To guard your body?”
I shifted the car in reverse and began backing out.
“Nah. This is more of a fact-finding mission.” I told her as I straightened the car in the direction I needed. “Go back to bed.”
“Aight.” She jargoned.
But I knew she wouldn’t be sleeping if any of her boys were out there in possible danger. I knew she would be keeping an eye on me through her many screens and satellite access she shouldn’t have.
Bambam was a guardian angel.
An angel who could ruin one’s life with a series of ones and zeros.
But she’d only do that if you were a shit human and if you went after one of the people she’s chosen to protect.
My only stop was at a local Tim Hortons to get a dark roast, extra large with nothing in it. I needed the caffeine to punch me in the face. I needed it so strong, it would show up on a drug test three weeks from last Wednesday.
Following the direction of the GPS, I found the house and a place where my car wouldn’t look suspicious and noted the time. I couldn’t stay for long—a strange car parked for too long could draw attention.
The house itself had Alisha written all over it.
It was quaint and couldn’t be more than three bedrooms. It had a short black fence that seemed to be more for decoration than anything else with a white gate that sat over a flower-lined cobblestone path to the front porch.
The blue front door had a golden knob that reminded me of something out of the south of France. The door was flanked by dainty flower boxes, empty as winter had just ended.
I smiled.
The windows were dark—I checked my watch.
She must still be asleep—normal people were asleep at this hour. They weren’t trolling the streets, watching over strangers like some stalker.
I sipped.
Closing my eyes, I waited until the dark liquid touched my soul, then moaned.
“That’s the stuff.” I grumbled.
My coffee was gone by the time a black car rumbled to a stop across the street from the house.
They turned off the engine and waited.
A white, windowless van pulled up behind it.
Slowly, I exited my car, pulled my hoodie up and headed in their direction on the other side of the street.
A distracted Alisha exited the house, turned to lock the door then dropped her keys into her purse. She strung the bag over one shoulder, held a little tighter to her travel mug and descended the front steps. I tried not getting distracted by her and focused on the task at hand.
The moment she turned to lock the gate, the men watching her jumped into motion. A speeding car slowed but I got to her before they did.
“Don’t freak out.” I spoke from behind her.
She gasped.
“It’s Exodus.”
Turning, she glared at me with the kind of impatience that told me she was already over me and my shit.
“Give me a hug and look over my right shoulder across the street.”
When she did, I stepped back.
“Car and the windowless van?”
“Mhm,” I replied. “They’re here for you. I’m going to take you to my car. Walk normally.”
Alisha cleared her throat, lifted her chin and straightened her spine. With my palm at her lower back, we walked back toward my car. Alisha even sipped from her mug like nothing was wrong until I could open the passenger side door for her to climb in.
“Put your work address into my GPS.” I told her, slipping on my seatbelt.
“What’s going on?” She wanted to know.
“They know where you live.” I told her instead.
“Arg!” Alisha growled as the GPS wasn’t doing what she wanted. “Stupid thing.”
Slipping the car back into park, I unclipped my belt.
“You drive.”
“Wh—” She blinked at me. “What? You’re letting me drive your car?”
I sucked my teeth, reaching for the door.
“Yes. Come on—what? Don’t have a license?”
“Well, sure, I do. It’s just—Exodus, this is a Bentley.”
“Yeh-ss.” I dragged out. “And?”
“Well, you can’t just?—”
Climbing from the car, I walked around and opened her door. Unsteadily, she stepped out, stared at me the entire trek around the vehicle then got in.
When we were settled again, I tried not thinking about having her behind the wheels of my Bentley. Hearing the roar of the engine and watching the way she handled the car turned me on.
I shifted in my seat.
“Since they went out of their way to find me.” Her voice drew me back to reality. “You’re saying I’m really in trouble.”
“I think so.”
“Aside from the obvious, why are you here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I replied.
“And you came here?” She glanced at me then back at the road.
It didn’t make sense lying.
“Something about your story was bothering me.”
Alisha drew to a redlight and looked at me.
“What about it?”
She sipped from her coffee.
“I’m not sure.” I muttered. “Too many things didn’t add up—were off, I guess.”
She signed softly while nodding.
We were on our way again.
“After school, I’ll pick you up. You can stay at Sam’s place.”
As she pulled into a school’s parking lot, she cleared her throat and slowed.
“Does Sam know about this?”
I smirked.
Alisha glanced at me.
“That’s a no, then.” She groaned. “Oi.”
“You’re friends. You like each other. It’s going to be fine.”
“How do you know that?” She wanted to know, parking and turning off the ignition. “We’re friends but he may not want me in his space.”
“His space?”
She groaned and reached for the door handle after sucking her teeth.
“You know what I mean!” Alisha snapped.
I laughed.
“He won’t mind.” I reassured her. “It’ll be fine.”
* * *
“Any leads?” Bambam shoved a chip into her mouth.
“No.” I stared at the clock. “She’s a fucking high school teacher. I mean, what kind of trouble could she have possibly gotten into?”
“Maybe she’s an OnlyFans girl.”
For a brief moment I imagined that, getting excited at the possibility then growing angry at other men seeing her in that way.
Bambam cleared her throat pulling me back to our conversation.
“Okay, here’s what I found. She’s not rich.
” She wiped her salt-covered fingers against the thighs of her jeans then connected her laptop to the big screen.
“She makes about sixty thousand a year after taxes. She used to do a tutoring side hustle that brought in another twenty-five ten to fifteen grand but not anymore.”
A picture of Alisha smiling brightly at the camera popped up on the screen then more info populated around her head.
“She drives a ten-year-old Mini Cooper.” Bambam continued.
“Student loans she’s slowly paying off and one credit card she barely touches.
When it comes to family, she has an aunt in Sudbury that doesn’t talk to her.
Her mother had a stroke a couple of years ago and didn’t make it.
The father walked out on the mom years ago, didn’t look back and disappeared. ”
Bambam shoved her hand into the bag of chips again.
“I can’t find him.”
“You, the great seer of all can’t find a mere mortal?” I asked.
“Eh. Watch it.” She frowned, deeply. “I can still take you.”
I scrunched my nose at her, and she sighed dramatically like an insolent teen.
“All I’m saying is, he’s either dead or hiding on purpose.”
“Hiding?” I blinked. “From what?”
“I don’t know—child support or the CRA.” She chuckled. “Beats me—what bothers me is that I can’t find him. If he is dead, no one has reported it because there isn’t a death certificate, no hospital records.”
“No filings for things like licensing, taxes?—”
“Yin, when I said nothing, I mean noh-thing.”
“Well—shit.”
“Yeah.” Bambam was despondent. “I can’t find anything on him and I’m kind of offended.”
I patted her shoulder gently.
“I’m pretty sure we’re just missing something.” I told her. “But I told Alisha I’d pick her up after school and she can stay at Sam’s place.”
“What?” Sam’s voice sounded.
We looked back to see him walking into the space to set his bag on a chair.
“Why can’t you take her to your place?” Sam wanted to know as he leaned in to kiss Bambam’s cheek.
I frowned.
“My place isn’t set up for a woman.” I reminded him.
“Yeah,” Bambam said. “He lives like a bum.”
I ignored her, grabbed my coat and left them arguing about guestrooms and thread count.
Before going to her school, I grabbed my to-go bag from my place, checking the gun I always kept at the bottom of it and dumped the bag in my trunk.
After guzzling down two cups of water, I was on my way to her school when my phone rang.
“Yeah?” I answered it through the Bluetooth system.