Charade

Benji

My mind raced as I stepped down the long hallway, complete with tattered red carpet and yellow lighting. Vic walked beside me, explaining tomorrow night's plan, but I wasn't listening. My head was so full; it felt like it would explode. So much inside it, pushing at the inside of my skull, making me feel like I was bursting at the seams. I ran my hand through my hair, grabbing handfuls of it and tearing at its roots, the pain strangely easing me.

"Benjamin?" Vic asked.

"What? What do you want?"

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

There was too much in my head. Everything was too frantic, too fast.

"Benjamin? Benjamin, listen."

I didn't look up; just felt the hot blood rise in my cheeks.

"Hello?" Vic said, grabbing my arm.

I glanced up at his concerned face, looking into those warm brown eyes, my breathing heavy and panicked.

"I need you to calm down," he said softly.

I paused.

Then I started thinking about the things I was keeping from him.

Lily's kiss, his unravelled secret. He was acting so kindly, so fatherly, but if he knew the truth about what had happened last night, he'd never look at me the same way again. Then, on top of the disorientation and the panic, guilt came crashing down, and all my thoughts dissolved to only one: I'm so sorry.

"All we have to do is get rid of the evidence," Vic said. "Then we'll be fine. We'll get the money, give it to Chris, and it'll all be over."

Those words, so careful and quiet and perfect, made my insides ache, because I knew that he was wrong. This wouldn't end with two million dollars, or even with Lily healed. I was in too deep. I felt too much. Lily, the little sister I never had, was in love with me and we were both lying to the only real father figure I'd ever had. When did it all become so complicated?

"Okay," I choked out, my lie like thick black ooze drowning my words.

Vic put his arm around me and we continued walking.

"Little hiccups like this happen all the time in our world," he said. "People find out. We stop them. Just remember what our purpose is."

I nodded, feeling the panic simmer to confusion.

"Okay," I sighed.

Vic patted my shoulder and took back his arm to unlock the apartment. He sauntered in easily, like he didn't have a care in the world, but I knew the truth. He was just as scared as I was. It didn't matter how hurt he was, how terrified he was. He was the voice of reason. He buried things. And he damn good at getting a job done.

Until it happened.

Vic had gone to the safe, the way he usually did at night, to dump the day's earnings with the rest. But then the air changed and he froze, squatted down by the couch and the coffee table. He fell backwards on his ass, a look of horror on his face.

"Vic?" I asked.

I kneeled beside him, my hand on his shoulder, but his eyes were locked to the bottom of the safe. I followed his gaze into the grey and saw... nothing.

The money was gone.

Every last penny.

Missing.

Vanished.

"Wh-wh-where's it gone?" Vic stumbled.

I leapt forward, shoving my hands into the safe, as if it would magically make the money appear, but there was nothing left. I looked back at Vic, wide-eyed, as he stared in horror at the empty safe. Then, in some momentary second of telepathy, we said in perfect sync:

"Eddie."

And we knew what we had to do.

© A.G. Travers 2015