Taking Mine by Schneider Rachel

Author:Schneider, Rachel [Schneider, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Taking Mine
Published: 2015-12-29T08:00:00+00:00

IT’S NOT UNTIL WE’RE BACK in Justin’s apartment that we speak again. We were told that Jimmy would contact us when he confirmed our job was complete and that a package of cash would be dropped off to Taylor immediately following. Kip insisted I wait it out here. He doesn’t want me to move around too much just in case.

Justin smokes one cigarette after another in the open doorway of his apartment. His dress shirt is unbuttoned with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his bowtie hanging undone around his collar. He's paced the living room since we arrived over an hour ago.

“Can you sit? You’re making me nervous.”

Justin stubs his cigarette out and shuts the door behind him. “It was too easy. It doesn’t make sense.”

I stop myself from admitting that I’ve had the same thought. “Smoking yourself to death isn’t helping anything.”

He wipes his hand across his mouth and takes a seat next to me on the couch. I flip through the channels on TV, trying to find something worthwhile. “Right there,” Justin says, prompting me to stop on a fishing show.

“Fishing?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I like to fish.”

“Since when?”

“My dad used to take me and my brother when we were little.” He senses my confusion and says, “Before he started drinking.”

“What’s your dad like now?”

Justin kicks off his dress shoes and props his feet up on the coffee table. I gather the material of my dress and fold mine under me. “He’s better. Been sober for five years now.”

“You don’t talk about him much.”

“Eh.” Justin seems uncomfortable. “We don’t have much of a relationship. Even before he started drinking, he was never home because of his job.” I remain silent, prompting him to keep going. “He was a cop.”

I scoff, smiling. “Isn’t that kind of ironic?”

He smiles back. “You have no idea.”

I toy with my cell phone, flipping it over and back in my hands, unsure of how much I want to divulge. I've never cared to tell anyone about my past. It might be because I've never had someone to tell, but for some reason I want to tell Justin. He's always held no condemnation against me or my brother for the lives we've lived, and that's comforting. He's the first person I've felt free with.

“My dad was killed by a cop.”

My words snag his attention away from the TV screen, where the fisherman is struggling to reel in a freshwater fish of some sort. “What?” he says, stunned by my admission.

“My dad was walking home from work one night when a cop approached him. They went through the whole spiel, why he was out this late on the wrong side of town, why didn't he take the bus, etc. Wasted fifteen minutes of questioning before he asked for my dad’s identification. My dad’s jumper didn’t have pockets, so he always kept his wallet on the inside of his zipper. When my dad reached for it, the cop drew his gun. Claimed he thought my dad was reaching for a weapon.

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