Mindjacker by C.A. Hartman

Author:C.A. Hartman [Hartman, C.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 5280 Press
Published: 2018-09-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

When Quinn arrived at Mercy Park, she didn’t see Jones’s solid build or bright tattoos yet.

It was dark out. And late. The old park in the White Sands neighborhood, once filled with cacti like other Downtown parks, was now nothing but concrete and rocks, and oddly-shaped metal sculptures where the cacti used to be. The tall sculptures were created out of random metal scrap by school kids, and at night they looked almost menacing, as if to scare off monsters.

Quinn finally spotted Jones, in his usual cargoes and tank top, sitting on one of the swings. The ones for kids. It made Jones look more vulnerable somehow, like she could almost imagine him as a boy. Quinn took a seat on the swing next to him.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a guy who likes the swings,” she joked.

No smile or reaction. “My brother likes ’em.”

“Oh, you have a brother who’s a kid?”

Jones hesitated. “In some ways. He’s fully grown… but not so much mentally.”

Quinn nodded, surprised. It was the first time he’d ever talked about his personal life.

He finally turned to her. “What’s the word?”

Quinn told him what Yolanda said.

Jones shook his head, his jaw tightening. “God damn it. They know they got us bent over with our pants down, that’s what this is.”

“You’re right.”

“This is exactly what I been tryin’ to avoid,” he said, his hands gripping the chains of his swing. “Havin’ someone hold money over my head, makin’ me jump up and down for it like a fucken dog.”

“I know. It took every bit of self-control I had not to tell her to go fuck herself.” She sighed. “We’re in the same boat, you and me, and at least we agree—”

“We ain’t in the same boat,” he snapped, his eyes on her again. “My brother… he needs supervision and special medical care. My mother takes care of him and they rely on my support. The type of shit the Protectorate’s got us doin’… it’s risky. If something happens to me, if I wind up in the clink or worse, my family’s done for. That’s what drives me. That’s why I do this, for my family.” He paused, giving her a onceover. “Ain’t nothin’ drivin’ you except wantin’ the good life.”

Quinn blinked at the rebuke, her anger flaring for a moment and a slew of insults lining up in her mind. But she held her tongue. She wanted much more than “the good life,” but it wasn’t the time to even attempt to explain all that. And even with her reasons, she didn’t have a family to worry about like Jones did.

“It’s noble,” she finally said. “How much you care for your family.”

Jones looked away, his jaw still pulsing with tension. For the first time, Quinn felt compassion for the big thug.

He swayed in the swing for a bit, until he spoke again. “Every time I leave to do a job, Jeffrey knows. He senses it, like he fucken knows I’m doing something dangerous, something that could take me away from him.

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