The building was old, but remarkably well kept. I parked down and across the street, close enough to make a get away should things turn sour, but far enough that I hoped no ill-disposed characters would break into my car.
I left my wallet and all important personal belongings in my glove compartment. Not the most secure place in the world, I know, but I wasn’t about to leave them sitting on the seat for all to see. I shoved my notebook and pen in one back pocket and my phone in the other. In one hand I held the business card, and in the other I held my pepper spray. It had come in handy one night many years ago, and after that night, I never left the house without it.
I approached the building cautiously. A door slammed from somewhere within, and I jumped, my courage almost leaving me. But I took a steadying breath and pressed forward. It felt kind of stupid to try the front door, but it felt arguably more stupid to go down a dark alley and try a side or back door, so I stuck to my guns and pushed open the front door.
The door opened on silent hinges, and I took one tentative step inside. The foyer was semi-lit and completely empty. I took another step and closed the door softly behind me. It was only when I started climbing the nearest staircase that my sense of self-preservation finally kicked in and I wondered aloud, “What am I doing?”
My words were soft, but I underestimated the amount that they would echo.
Footsteps sounded on the floor above me, and I turned and ran. I was at the front door, but not through it, when a rough voice came from behind me, “Don’t move!”
Like the inexperienced person I am, I listened instead of running to the relative safety of the street. I threw my hands up and froze in place.
“This is private property. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” the voice demanded.
I slowly turned to face my interrogator. It wasn’t the man from the bank, and I was actually a little disappointed. This new man looked much more likely to shoot me than the bank robber had. I stared at him with what must have been a very deer in the headlights look until I finally blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m Chloe Collins. I’m here to see Eric.”
The man recoiled at the sound of my name and immediately lowered his gun. He squinted at me from across the room, and the look of realization that passed over his face was priceless. I still wasn’t sure why I had that effect on these people, but I was certainly going to use it to my advantage.
“Well, are you going to take me to Eric or not?” I asked, lowering my hands.
“Oh, oh, of course. Right this way,” he said, gesturing to the stairs I’d been on before.
I followed him, but not too closely, up three flights of stairs. At the top of the third flight, he turned right and led me toward an elevator. He pressed the button, and we waited in awkward silence for the elevator to arrive.
It dinged softly and the doors swished open. “After you, Miss Collins,” the man said. I stepped into the elevator with shaky limbs. What in the world had gotten into me? Who in their right mind would get into an elevator with someone who had just held them at gunpoint?
“I apologize for what happened downstairs,” the man said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize it was you I was talking to.”
“It’s okay, but I do appreciate that you didn’t shoot me,” I said, just to see his reaction. He blushed and looked away from me. Fascinating.
The elevator dinged again, and I looked up at the floor counter. 20. Eric must be doing well for himself if he was on the 20th floor of an office building.
My interrogator turned escort led me out of the elevator and down the hallway to a non-descript door. He knocked and the door swung open from the inside. He went in first, and when I hesitated to follow, he turned back to me and inclined his head.
I stepped into the most highly-decorated office I’d ever seen. There were various plaques on the walls and all manner of trinkets set on wall-mounted shelves. It had the distinct feel of walking into a child’s bedroom, except for where the bed should be, sat an enormous desk. And behind the desk was an equally enormous chair, its back facing the door.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Sir, but Chloe Collins is here to see you,” my escort said.
At the sound of my name, the chair swung around, and even though I was expecting it, I was still surprised to see Eric sitting there. We stared at each other, and for a second I was back in my Senior year of high school.
Eric looked exactly like I remembered, and when he broke into a huge grin, I went weak in the knees.
“Chloe. It’s so good to see you again,” he said.
I stuttered and stammered and ultimately was left speechless. Between his smile and his voice and his very presence, it was as if I was reliving my past, except that the setting was wrong and the circumstances were totally unclear.
“Leave us,” he said, with a wave of his hand. The men, guards I assumed, in the room quickly filed out, closing the door behind them.
“It really is you,” I said, my heart beating furiously in my chest.
“Of course. Welcome to my home,” he said, getting out of his chair and coming out from behind his desk.
The full view of his body was the thing that ultimately brought me back to the present. He was no longer the lanky, awkward boy I’d dated and almost married. He’d grown into his height and filled out in all the right places. Where there once had been uncertainty, there was now confidence bordering on arrogance. It was strange that after fifteen years I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time. I was vaguely concerned about the fact that I really liked what I saw.
“Your home?” I asked when I could form a sentence.
“I’m here so often it might as well be.”
All I could do was nod in agreement.
“As nice as it is to see you again, I do have matters that need tending to, so please, tell me why you’re here,” he said.
“The bank robbery. The man gave me this,” I said, holding out the business card.
Eric stepped right up next to me and took the business card. The smell of him overwhelmed me. It was so familiar and painful, yet there was something slightly different about it. In my emotional state, I couldn’t put my finger on it. In fact, I couldn’t seem to form one coherent thought until he stepped back with an amused look on his face.
“You figured out my little secret,” he said, a note of pride in his voice.
“Why do I scare everyone that works for you?” I blurted.
He gave a little shake of his head and chuckled slightly. “It’s not you they’re afraid of. I run a tight ship around here, and the breaking of rules is met with immediate dismissal, if you catch my drift.” He ran a finger across his throat, and the action sent a chill through me.
“Is Code C a breakable rule?” I asked.
“Who told you about Code C?” he demanded, all sense of charm and composure suddenly replaced with barely checked rage.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, worried for the well-being of the robber from the bank.
He glared at the floor, but didn’t push me for info. After a second the harsh edge of his rage passed, and he looked at me with something like sentimentality.
“Did you know you were the only person who ever gave me the time of day? In all my years of school, you were the only one who ever really tried to know me.”
It was true, he didn’t have many friends inside or outside of school. I probably was the only one he spent any time with. We’d been so close back then. He’d even proposed to me. But the boy he’d once gotten down on one knee was gone, replaced by the stranger in front of me. Still, my heart beat erratically at the sight of him, and some part of me desperately wanted to get to know this new Eric.
“I hurt you, and I know that, which is why, when I came into this new job, I created my ‘no-harm list’, also known as Code C. It was the only way I could think to make amends for my childish actions.”
Those ‘childish actions’ still cut deeply. It was like it was yesterday that he broke off our engagement with no explanation whatsoever and disappeared completely from my life. Calling that childish was the understatement of the year. A wave of pain washed over me, and it wasn’t until I could breathe and think again that I took in the rest of his statement.
“Who else is on this ‘no-harm list’,” I asked slowly.
He smiled again and the look of pride made a reappearance, “That’s another secret figured out. It’s only you. Code C stands for Code Chloe. The list refers to you, and you alone. You are the only person in this world that I would never dream of hurting again, so I made every last one of my people swear to never let harm come to you.”
His words brought tears to my eyes and hidden emotions to the surface. In the heat of the moment, I couldn’t keep the words to myself.
“I still love you,” I said.
He shook his head and locked eyes with me. “Those words kept me going for a long time, but Chloe, you don’t need to love me anymore. I want you to be happy, to move on and find someone good to spend your life with. That’s why I left and never came back. My world is too dangerous to bring you into, and I won’t do it.”
He was serious, there was no doubt about that, but I couldn’t just accept it. “Eric, you’re breaking my heart all over again.”
“I’m sorry, Chloe, I truly am. But it’s for the best. It’s been good to see you again, but it’s time for you to leave.”
“What could possibly be so dangerous about your life?” I demanded, tears flowing now.
“That’s a secret I’m going to have to keep to myself. Goodbye, Chloe.” His hand twitched and for a split second, I was sure he was going to reach out and touch me, but he didn’t.
It was probably for the best that he didn’t, because if he had this whole encounter would have become real, and I knew for sure that I wouldn’t be able to overcome the complete devastation a second time.
He returned to the chair behind his desk, and a few seconds later the door opened and his guards stepped back in.
“Escort her out and see her off safely,” Eric ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” my escort from earlier said.
My car was unharmed, courtesy of Code C if I had to guess. I locked myself in and let the tears flow for a good long while. The second heartbreak was no easier than the first, but it didn’t last nearly as long.
As soon as my tears dried up, I drove home. It was one of those drives that is pure autopilot, the kind that you don’t remember a single moment of the drive, but somehow you made it where you supposed to be. It happened because that investigative part of my brain was frantically pulling at any string it could find. Something was going on, and Eric was majorly involved.
It wasn’t until I got home that everything clicked into place for me, but I knew I would need some real evidence before I blew this into something big.
A few solid hours of research and some late night phone calls later, and I had the grand beginnings of my first big story. I hesitated to type it all up, though, because it was Eric I was talking about. The one man I loved, and who at least loved me back a little. The one who was specifically trying to keep me out of harm’s way.
The first few paragraphs of my story sent icy tendrils of betrayal shooting through my veins. Was I wrong to do this? I wasn’t sure. But I decided to keep going.
The words flowed almost effortlessly. By the time the story was complete, and the first rays of light were pouring over the horizon, all feelings of betrayal were gone. All that was left were the lingering aftereffects of a twice broken heart and the strangely wonderful feeling of revenge. Eric had hurt me beyond repair. The least he could do now was give me my big story.
The headline was the last thing I completed:
World’s Largest Crime Syndicate, SCNDLVE, Busted After Fifteen Years of Terror.
I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to this little story! Thanks for being here and enjoying short fiction with me.
Until next time!